


Two Hearts

by whovianmuse



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-13
Updated: 2015-12-13
Packaged: 2018-05-06 11:19:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5414855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whovianmuse/pseuds/whovianmuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“Do you know why we have two hearts, Clara?” the Doctor asks his memory. Silence answers him in a deafening roar, but the Doctor listens instead for the faint cadence of a lilting lullaby, tucked away in the back of his mind, a halcyon disguised as a young woman’s voice. His Clara.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two Hearts

            “Do you know why we have two hearts, Clara?” the Doctor asks his memory.

            Silence answers him in a deafening roar, but the Doctor listens instead for the faint cadence of a lilting lullaby, tucked away in the back of his mind, a halcyon disguised as a young woman’s voice. His Clara.

            “We have two hearts because one is simply not enough to endure and contain all of that heart _ache_ ,” he says, voice quavering ever so slightly as he chokes on that last word. Any normal person wouldn’t have been able to detect the subtle shift…but she would have. Clara always knew.

            “It’s the promise,” he continues, “of time travel. The promise of having the ability to live inside your own little _almost_ -forever. The promise that allows us to be a little more foolish and reckless than our counterparts…because we can keep coming back, if we do it just right. And therein lies the catch, if you will…because eventually…no matter how far away that we run, no matter how many times, how many ways we not only _cheat_ death, but laugh in its gruesome face…we end up alone. Eventually, everyone we have ever loved…everyone we have ever called our friend…will leave us.”

            He comes to a sudden halt amidst his pacing, spins on the spot, sighs softly.

            “Four a half billion years, and still, I remember you. Every detail of you, since the day that I lost you. And that, Clara… _that_ is our other burden.”

            The Doctor chuckles, low, dark, and throaty, and with a shake of his head, forces a small smile.

            “I have been cursed with a memory as sharp as a dagger…as grand and as haunting as a palace,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. His smile fades to a well-worn frown as his eyes rove the chalkboard, tracing the dusty white remnants of her delicate handwriting, over and over again, burning the image into his mind, where it will remain for the rest of his _almost_ -forever.


End file.
